The crisp autumn breeze tickled against his pale skin, rubbing off against his left, metal arm. Ahote enjoyed warmer weather when he could, but by settling on the peak of Mt. Hakobe, he was requesting a season that would never come, for that mountain was an everlasting winter, a world of its own. Regardless, he had grown used to the harsh, icy winds and the several feet of snow that soaked your boots and froze your toes, the cloudy skies and the storms that came and went as often as the sun rose. With such desolate scenery and an even emptier, colder fortress, the heavy mood that always remained on that mountain became a state of normality to him. Mt. Hakobe and the Basilisks that lurk there could never provide the fluffy, pleasant feelings that his previous life in Magnolia Town with the Faeries could, only peace among themselves and the settlers of the mountain.
The stress of that heavy atmosphere seems to lift each and every time the raven haired youth set foot elsewhere, feeling more at home in these woods than he did on that snow covered rock. It was one of life's pleasures he had been denied since he was just a babe. With these thoughts in mind, Ahote ambled through the woods with one shoulder cushioning the shaft of the ax, his metal arm loosely hanging against his side. I guess since now I've killed a man and've come out with it to Mom, I shouldn't have to keep sneaking out doing errands like this. I could just leave whenever I pleased. . . but I'd rather be safe than sorry.
he pondered. There wasn't a lot he kept from his mother, there wasn't a lot to keep
. His life, until recently, had been an open book for his family to read whenever they pleased, chose which pages to turn and which to ignore. The idea made him feel lethargic, angry, upset, even if it were only for brief moments before returning to his usual state of calmness and softness.
These errands? Disappointing. It was not the sort of life he envisioned himself to do. It was the sort of action he experienced when raiding that one place with Sol and the others, on the boats. He had only small memories of that time, of the scenery, the name. But the smell of the sea, the salty taste of the air, the cries of battle and the insurmountable amount of pressure he felt when sneaking into the boat, passed the guards. It was that sort of rush of adrenaline and thrill he yearned for. Not hunting skunks, cutting down trees, finding critters.
These upsetting thoughts were interrupted when an abrupt rush of heat kissed his toes, making him skip back upon seeing the orb of flames flicker and crackle just inches ahead of him, surrounding him. Instinctively, Ahote wielded the tree act defensively, holding it with both hands, close to his chest. . . .Wh. . . what is this?. . .
he thought to himself, topaz eyes locked on the supposed threat ahead of him. But to his surprise, the flames did not spread or lunge forward as he thought they would. Instead, they remained still in their shape, only seeming to threaten him if he moved onto them. But he wouldn't test that idea.
With his guard still up, he flinched at the sudden thud and cloud of dust and dirt that would rise from the nearest grove of bushes. The raven haired youth jerked his head to the location of the noise, a cold sweat layering over his forward.
He hugged the ax close to his chest as he faltered, slowly, over to the bushes. His breaths were quick and heavy, and he legs trembled as if he were about to give way. His brows scrunched up and his lips quivered, wide topaz eyes struggling to stay open, afraid that something or someone may lunge out at him.
Quickly, quietly, he held out his metal arm to push away the bushes, digits grabbing its twigs, "Whatever you are. . ."
Ahote sputtered, "prepare yourself!"
quickly pulling away the twigs and leaves, the chocolate threaded, ruby eyed woman sat there in apparent pain, while Ahote's face went as white as a ghost, "EEK!"
he squeaked before quickly realizing that he was, perhaps, in no danger at all.
Quickly, Ahote regained composure and looked at the woman in better view with a furrowed brow, "Oh, it's just a woman. . ."
Ahote's eyes climbed to her head, noticing her strange features, ". . .with ears. . ."
he mumbled, topaz hues climbing back down to her's, "You shouldn't scare a guy with an ax
like that. That's the kind of stuff that gets a man charged with manslaughter. . ."
Ahote grumbled, raising the ax back to his shoulder and away from the woman.
He wasn't quite expecting to see a woman of her peculiar features so soon, though it'd be a lie if he thought he wasn't expecting some sort of strange encounter. And strange, this was. Perhaps the strangest. The youth thrust his metal arm forward, offering to help her up, "Are you alright, by the way, miss? You didn't hurt yourself. . . doing whatever you were doing, did you?"
WC: 1,368/1,250 (completed)